“So, frumgirl, when are you going to start poppin’ em’ out?”
That line was from the Yuppie girl, no less.
To give her credit, she isn’t the first. Apparently, married frumpeople must “pop them out” regularly, like so many challah rolls from the oven. Like gumballs from a quarter machine. Like that pitching machine at batting cages. Like mushrooms on a dead log. Pop pop pop.
While still doing wonderfully by way of grades, of course.
I feel like punching someone every time.
And the classmates have been recently reminded that I should be producing mushrooms or baseballs by the fact that the only other frummarried in my class’s wife “popped one out” last week.
Who invented that “popping out,” expression, anyway? And why do childless people have the right to use it without getting slapped?
And what’s with the “I had a baby,” announcement when you’re male? You most certainly did not have a baby. Your wife did. Don’t dismiss her pain and labor or the carrying around of an extra thirty pounds of late pregnancy for the last bunch o’ months like that. However much help you are, it does not even remotely compare to pushing a baby out or submitting yourself to a four inch horse needle as the least painful alternative.
It makes every somewhat feminist cell in my body stand up and protest. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT, ever use either expression in my hearing. My head will most likely explode.